5 Times, 1 Time
by DevDev
Summary: Five times Claire wishes for a brother and one where she doesn't.


* * *

1.

At the age of five, Claire is a lonely girl. With shockingly blonde, wild hair, she sits by herself, slim legs crossed beneath her. Her Aunt Lindsey has dressed her and brought her to school today, but it makes no difference. Claire is used to this now. She sits underneath a large tree, her blue dress fanning out from underneath her legs, away from the other frolicking kids. In a circle surrounding her are stuffed toys, all of different shapes and sizes. In the center of the circle is a plastic set of china, a matching tray below. She converses with each character with her sweet lilt, whispering in their felt ears, before filling each of their pink teacups with imaginary tea.

Claire sits peacefully and serenely, enjoying her time outside in the sunshine, plastic cup held tenderly, until Mr. Paddy suddenly flies from the circle and lands haphazardly in a patch of dirt a few feet away. In Mr. Paddy's wake stands Shane Roberts with a sneer on his round, freckled face.

"Why don't you get some real friends, Claire baby." And then he tugs hard on her blonde hair and she can't stop the tears from immediately filling her eyes.

Claire wrestles from his grasp before running and leaving her circle of toys behind, the white ribbon of her blue dress trailing in her wake. She runs until she can't see Shane anymore, or the friends she left behind. Claire doesn't tell her teacher or Aunt Lindsey about Shane. Nor does she tell her Mother when Carole comes stumbling in from work long after Lindsey has tucked Claire into bed.

If Claire had an older brother, she would tell him about Shane. If Claire had an older brother, he would beat Shane up and tell him to leave his little sissy alone or else.

Instead, Shane will terrorize Claire for three more years before anyone notices and puts an end to it.

* * *

2.

Claire rims her blue eyes with black kohl liner. Claire dyes her blonde hair, so similar to her mother's, black. She does this because her mother hates it.

They fight constantly now. About Claire's grades (or lack thereof), her clothes (or lack thereof), and how often she sleeps at home now (never).

She is sixteen years old. It is one year before the car accident will immobilize her mother, but Claire doesn't know that. She chooses biting words that leave her mother speechless and gasping for breath as if Claire has shot bullets across the room instead of words. She can only imagine Carole's expression when she slams the door closed behind her and leaves for the night.

There are drugs and alcohol. And there is sex.

Claire will never remember her first time. So high and drunk, she only remembers waking naked with a slumbering stranger beside her in a random bed. This frightens her, but not nearly enough to stop her reckless behavior.

It is only after she passes out from too much alcohol and knocks her head on the corner of a coffee table in one of her friend's houses, waking in the hospital after having her stomach pumped, Carole's red-rimmed eyes above her own. Then it is enough. She gets ten stitches, a stern lecture from some doctor, and a stale sandwich from the hospital cafeteria.

But Carole's silence is the worst punishment of all. Claire can handle her screams and cries and her words, but her silence is too much.

If Claire had an older brother, he would smooth things over between her and Carole. He would tell her to stay away from the guys she's been seeing and sleeping with. He would watch her. He would protect her.

* * *

3.

After the car accident, Claire refuses to stay with Aunt Lindsey. She's dealt with Lindsey's strictness and her mood swings for years and that was without living under the same roof. She couldn't possibly deal with her Aunt in such close quarters.

So she moves into the space above the tattoo and piercing parlor where the owner of the place lives. He rents her the room next to his for a dirt-cheap price, pity clouding the value of his offer. She has a full, creaky bed where the springs hurt her back, a small kitchenette with chipped tile, and a showerhead that drips constantly but barely spits out enough water at her in order for her to clean her hair properly. But these things don't bother her.

Nor does her job. Piercing keeps her mind off of her mother, Aunt, newly discovered Dad, and her lack of priorities/goals for her future. Eventually Dale (that's the owner's name) let's her move up to tattooing and allows her to showcase her sketches. These things make her fond of Dale, despite his gruff demeanor and sexist comments. Not fond enough, however, when he sneaks into her room late one night and slides into her bed next to her sleeping form. She wakes to his thick hands slipping underneath her baggy nightshirt. He mutters how much her black hair mesmerizes him, how it makes him _hard_ all the _damn_ time. Claire, still not fully awake, screams before blindly clawing at his face. He calls her a bloody _cunt_, clutching at his bleeding cheek. Then he kicks her and her stuff out, firing her too.

There is nowhere for her to go. And for the first time in her life, she sleeps on the street.

Right before she drifts off, her head cradled between an empty cardboard box and an old sweatshirt of hers, she imagines having an older brother. If she had a brother, she'd go to his place and he would take care of her and that would be that. There wouldn't be a Dale; there wouldn't be a noisy street. There would be a bed, food, comforting arms, and a warm voice telling her over and over that it wasn't her fault. None of it is her fault.

She gets the wail of a police siren instead.

* * *

4.

After Thomas leaves, she expects him to come walking back through the door seconds after she's yelled her last words. She stands stock still in the center of their flat, hands on her round, obtuse stomach and she waits. Tears still stream down her face from her angry words, but Thomas will come in any second now and kiss those tears away. He will come in with a sorry on his lips, a kiss of forgiveness.

But he doesn't.

And so she cries. Right there on the floor where he's left her, Claire can't help the heaving sobs that escape her body. He has left her alone. Alone with those stupid swaying curtains that made her feel _so_ grown-up, alone with the paintings he's left and won't be coming back for. Alone with this baby she wanted to get rid of in the first place, but didn't because of him.

Never has she felt more alone; not even after the accident with her Mum or the night she spent on the street. This feels like someone decided to reach into her chest and rip her heart from it.

She wants to slap Thomas, but kiss him at the same time. She wants to say sorry, but spit out an '_I hate you_', too. She wants him to be this baby's father, but wishes it were anyone else's. She wishes she were strong enough to stand from this wood floor without her sobs tearing her down, but she isn't.

So she lies, a crumpled form on the floor of her own flat, pining for someone she will never see again in her life.

Claire is too old to wonder what would happen if she had an older brother right now, but it doesn't mean she still doesn't wish for one. He would stroke the strands of her hair and whisper that all would be okay, that he'd go and beat Thomas up and make sure he never sold a painting again. They'd all be okay, because her older brother would know what to do and he would help her raise the baby. He wouldn't let her give it away. If Claire had an older brother, she wouldn't want to anyway.

* * *

5.

If Claire had an older brother, she would have never been on Oceanic fight 815. There might have been the creepy psychic, but it wouldn't have mattered in the long run because her brother would have been there. Anyway, even if she had been on flight 815, he would have been there with her, sitting beside her on the plane. And when flight 815 had crashed, contractions ripping across the tight skin of her stomach, he would have helped her.

She is jealous of Shannon and Boone. They squabble and bicker like two children, fighting over the smallest of matters even hours after the crash. But Claire will always remember the way Boone stopped Shannon from screaming after the crash, how his arms were the only ones that knew how to cease her cries. Like a real brother. She thinks it might be nice to be taken care of like those two take care of one another. A familiar face in all this mess would certainly be nice.

The doctor, Hurley, Kate; they're all so very nice but she feels quite out of place here. There is no familiar accent in anyone's voice, which makes her own accent stick out like a sore thumb (as if the large belly isn't enough). If they aren't rescued, if they are stuck here forever, the only true connection she'll have is her baby.

She isn't so sure why that scares her so much, but it does. And as Boone stands to gather airline food packets for him and his sister, Claire realizes she has no idea what family even is.

* * *

1.

Sayid fixes the submarine. She doesn't know how or why or where he got any spare parts for something that was blown to bits, but she doesn't care.

They leave the island and she doesn't look back.

When they reach the dock hours later, Claire ascends the submarine ladder alone. She is the last one and her body shudders so hard with anticipation, her fingers slipping from the metal ladder time and time again.

Jack and Kate are waiting for her when she finally rises and meets the glare of the sun with a steady hand pressed against her brow. She spots her mother immediately. Carole stands a little ways back, her eyes roaming the submarine with eagerness. The second person she spots is Aaron. His blonde hair is cropped close to his head and his blue eyes are so similar to her own, it's like looking in a mirror. Tears form in her eyes and she moves to run for him, so she can finally scoop him up in her arms and never let go.

Aaron starts to run, but not to her.

He runs straight into the arms of Jack, yelling "Dad" as loud as he can. Next he hugs Kate, but still grips onto Jack's hand with a grip of death, slipping the other small hand into Kate's. The two swing the boy between them, neither of them correcting him. When they finally walk Aaron to her, Claire smiles tightly, fearing her façade will shatter if she does anything else.

Right here. This moment.

Claire never wanted a brother after all.

* * *


End file.
